


"Most important thing: don't slow me down"

by vlaurie17



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alec Lightwood Provides Comfort, Alec Lightwood is the glue that holds everyone together, Canon Compliant, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e13 Beati Bellicosi, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Good Sibling Alec Lightwood, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 13:03:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18094820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlaurie17/pseuds/vlaurie17
Summary: Alec Lightwood survived a literal arrow to the heart, then proceeded to provide emotional support to his parabatai, sister, and boyfriend, not to mention run the entire New York Institute on his own.So when does he have time to process his own feelings about Clary's death, and how has their relationship evolved since S1?





	"Most important thing: don't slow me down"

**Author's Note:**

> No offense to 3x13, but there was so little time given to dealing with the news of Clary being alive and the emotional ramifications of her sudden "resurrection" for the characters closest to her, not to mention people like Alec, whose relationship with Clary is underrated and has so much more potential.

Alec felt every muscle in his neck strain as he peeled himself from his office desk and finally stood up after a solid four hours’ worth of pure paperwork. Not that there was much paper involved, considering the Clave’s seemingly unlimited technology budget and penchant for fancy tablets. Nonetheless, he decided to take a walk around the institute as a break. 

As he was walking, his mind wandered as it was prone to do. Alec was quite introverted. His siblings were both extroverted and energetic most of the time, but Alec had always needed more space to recharge and to collect his thoughts. That’s why he’d always enjoyed going on walks. He may have always acted like he hated mundanes, but deep down, he’d always enjoyed people watching in public parks and walking through the New York streets at night. Sometimes Magnus joined him, but even now that he was much more comfortable with himself and open to company, it was a private ritual.

As he was walking through the halls of his childhood home that night, he found himself in the training room. He drew himself from his thoughts as he heard the sounds of female grunting and the thud of a fist on a heavy bag. He turned the corner to see a telltale red ponytail rhythmically swinging. He walked over quietly, not wanting to interrupt. 

Clary looked terrible, he thought. Although he’d never been attracted to her, he always knew she was beautiful, but in that moment she looked like a ghost of her normal self. Her face was pale, sweaty, and the circles under her eyes were so dark, he thought it was smudged mascara for a minute. She was hitting the bag with frantic desperation, but little skill. Her hands were wrapped, but poorly, and he could already see where her knuckles were starting to get bruised and possibly even bloody. He’d know, he’d been there before. 

She was obviously going through it, but he didn’t pity her. He’d been where she was now, late at night, wailing on a bag uselessly for hours on end like that could make all his problems disappear. Ever since he and Magnus had gotten together, he’d had to draw far less iratzes to heal battered hands the next morning. As he watched her beat herself up more than the punching bag, he felt understanding.

The same understanding he’d felt when Clary had finally told him how she’d brought Jace back to life and he’d hugged her. That hug had said a lot of things.  _ I understand. I love him too. I forgive you. Take care of him _ . That was the day he’d implicitly given her his blessing and received his own closure for a childhood of unrequited love. 

His feelings towards Clary had always been complicated and aired on the side of negative. Their relationship was still complicated and at times awkward, but he’d come to accept that she was a part of his family now, and although he didn’t always like her, he loved her. When everyone was mourning Clary’s alleged death, he hadn’t cried. He never really mourned her on his own, too busy trying to support the rest of his family who took the news much harder.

Magnus had lost not only his magic, but his pseudo-niece, another one of his adopted mentees which had always been so important to Magnus. Izzy had lost a sister figure, so he’d tried extra hard to be a good big brother, to make up for some of the loss. And Jace, well, Jace had already been a wreck before losing Clary, so it was hard to tell a difference in his behavior, unless you looked into his mismatched eyes and saw the devastation below. Or you were his parabatai, and could feel the devastation rolling through your body in waves, a constant ache in his chest, yet only a fraction of what his brother must be feeling. 

So no, Alec hadn’t taken the time to reflect on or mourn his relationship and time with Clary. He’d been too busy recovering from an arrow in the chest right in time to bounce back and  hold his family and institute together just as everyone was falling apart. 

It wasn’t until he was standing under that railway line in Paris, arrow notched in his bow, staring at Clary and the newly resurrected Jonathan that her death finally hit him. It was ironic, he thought, that right when they found out Clary was alive and well, Alec finally started to mourn her.

Of course, he didn’t show it. He just went about his duty as a soldier on a rescue mission, then once they returned to the institute, a leader. When they arrived back in the Institute’s HQ room and everyone had their tearful reunions with her, he just hung back and dug into his work. Honestly, if he thought about it, he’d actively been avoiding her since she got back. He had enough going on without having to work through his own feelings surrounding Clary’s sudden death and return. 

So now here he was, standing in the dark watching Lazarus herself hopelessly pound on a punching bag that was way too heavy for her skinny arms. Finally, he made his presence known, uncrossing his arms where he’d been leaning against a column. “What did that bag ever do to you?” 

She spun around, long hair sticking across her damp forehead, chest heaving. “Oh. Alec. Hey.” There was a beat where she seemed to compose herself, then said “Why aren’t you at Magnus’s?”

He allowed her deflection, “He and Izzy are having a ‘GNO’ whatever that means.”

Clary actually cracked a smile, “You mean a girls night out?” Alec nodded solemnly, and Clary actually let out a weak laugh. Encouraged, he continued, “They’re getting their nails done at a mundane spa, and I turned down the invitation.”

Clary smirked, “I’m shocked.” 

There were a few seconds of peaceful silence where each was wrapped in their own thoughts and the quiet of the institute at night cushioned their anxieties. Alec chose to break it softly, “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here on a Friday night?....Where’s Jace?” Alec asked not unkindly. 

Clary blushed and glanced down, starting to fiddle with her loose wrappings. “I don’t know,” but Alec noted the edge in her voice and heard the unspoken  _ but I don’t want to be around him _ . He watched as her hand unconsciously grazed the ugly red run carved into her collarbone. 

“Does it hurt?” Alec asked taking a casual step forward. Clary nodded silently, not meeting his eyes. Moments passed in less comfortable silence. When Clary finally looked up at him again there were tears in her eyes. 

“Being around Jace just reminds me that..that this thing is here, and it’s like Jonathan is inside me, and i feel dirty and corrupted, and I don’t want to be around Jace when I feel like that.” Her eyes sought his like a damp question. 

He unconsciously touched the spot on his chest where the scar from the arrow had been before his nephilim blood finally erased it. Having physical reminders of trauma on your body was hard to say the least.

He nodded, and she continued shakily “I just feel helpless, like I’m waiting for, waiting for something to happen.”

Alec nodded, “Waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

“Exactly, “ she sighed. “And Jace keeps telling me he’ll get it off me, but I just don’t know.”

“Jace may be a reckless idiot,” Clary laughed in surprise, “but when it comes to the people he loves, he the most determined reckless idiot I know. If anyone can help you find a way through this, it’s him.” Clary just nodded and looked at the ground, not looking totally convinced. 

“He was devastated when he thought you were gone,” Alec almost whispered.

Clary looked up then, listening. “I...through the bond, I..I felt his grief and his loneliness and his longing, and I don’t know what he...what we would have done to get through it if you hadn’t come back.” Clary’s eyes shone again. 

“He missed you. He’s glad you’re back,” Alec mumbled, suddenly self-conscious. When he looked at Clary he could tell she heard his underlying confession. 

“Angel knows why, with all the trouble you cause around here,” he said just to escape the suffocation of the sentimental moment. Clary rolled her eyes, but smiled, and he continued, “No really, look you can’t even wrap your hands properly. Now they’re all banged up.” 

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be burdened with the duty of helping her, but he gently led her over to a bench, where he unwrapped her swollen hands, cleaned them off, then drew an iratze for her. They both knew she could’ve done it all herself. 

“You know..” Clary started, “A part of me really did want Jonathan to be good. Without..without my mom,” Alec flinched only a little bit at the mention of Jocelyn, “I wanted to have some more family left. And I have Luke, but...part of me was still so disappointed when Jonathan turned out to be a terrible older brother…”

Alec absorbed her confession in thoughtful silence. 

She sighed, “Part of me wanted him to be like…..like you,” she finished hesitantly.

He raised his eyebrows, “Me?” 

She nodded, “Watching you and Izzy, it makes me envious sometimes…..You’re a good big brother, Alec. You always have been. If I could have chosen mine, I would have wanted someone like you.”

Alec felt shocked. Sure, they weren’t at each other’s throats like they used to be, but directly and sincerely complimenting each other was far from their communication style. Alec felt like someone had just handed him a baby he didn't know what to do with it. He knew it was precious, but he was nervous handling it. 

“At least when you’re not being a gigantic asshole,” Clary joked to break up the awkward tension. But Alec’s face remained thoughtful and serious, and Clary looked at him almost nervously, waiting for a response. 

Alec finally looked back at her, “You are my sister,” he said resolutely. 

Clary’ mouth opened, and he went on, “You’re like a sister to Izzy, and now that you’re with Jace, you’re like a sister-in-law.”

Clary just blushed, as did Alec, but as always, he was as determined as ever once he decided something. “You didn’t choose this life or your parents or crazy demonic brother or any of the problems you inherited, and I know we...I know I haven’t always tried to be understanding of your problems because I was focused on my own family, but uh….now, I think that…..you’re a part of that family, and I….” Alec got that far then couldn’t finish.

Clary looked ready to cry again, and she took his larger rougher hand in hers.

“Yeah,” she said, “me too.”

They both continued to blush and nodded awkwardly until Alec stood up abruptly, “I better go finish the last of my paperwork, but if you ever feel like coming in here for another night session, tell me, so I can come help you work on your awful technique.”

“Thank you,” she said.

Then before he could lose his courage, Alec leaned down to give her a quick kiss on the top of the head like he sometimes gave Izzy and walked back to his office feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks. 


End file.
